For Honor: 100 Themes Challenge
by KnightGuardianThanatos
Summary: 100 For Honor one shots based upon a list of themes found on deviantArt. There will be violence, smut, and slash shipping. Various characters will be involved. Rated M for some chapters.
1. Introduction

When the vikings started burning the city, it was the _ideal_ time for them to find him. Surely, no one would notice that he was missing, yes? They could get in, get him out, and make their way across the mountains to regroup with everyone to fight another day. Those raiders may burn their city, kill their people, but there would still be the other Daimyo and their forces left… along with the Emperor's Champion.

That was the thought on Ayu's mind when she lead the way through the burning city, slaying any and _all_ that stood in their way with next to _no_ effort even while wielding her nodachi with only one hand. Okuma had proven to be of the utmost help; a literal wall of muscle and strength standing between herself and any of the vikings that had thought any of them to be a easy target.

"Any plans after we get him out?"

The Shugoki rarely spoke, although this time she could understand why; having just snapped the neck of a viking warrior. She had not exactly been _clear_ when she suggested they gather up his equipment and weapons to fish the man that had also been her best friend out of prison: "Find a ship, get on, and get as far away as we can before regrouping. There's little hope in this sort of chaos."

"You make it sound easy, _tono_."

"That's because we are here now, Okuma, if you please."

The prison's doors were greatly weakened from the viking attack on the city, with cracks spreading through it. Even then though, it took three hard strikes from Okuma's kanabo before they finally gave with a crack of splintering wood, leaving the way open for them to walk in.

It was eerily silent inside the prison, the guards having either fled or died even though Ayu could not even hazard a guess as to how they died when the doors should have barred all the vikings from entering. Nevertheless, the Daimyo made a waving gesture with her nodachi: spread out, find him and free him.

Most of the cells were untouched, although they were also _empty_. Ayu's grip tightened around the nodachi in her grip, eyes darting this way and there: every shadow made her hand twitch, ready to swing her blade and slice in half anything that dared to jump out at her, a samurai's most deeply rooted combat instinct itching -

"Ayu?"

The voice was welcomingly familiar. Ayu's head snapped in the direction of the voice, to one of the cells that still had a locked door. This area of the prison was illuminated with a few torches, casting shadows that danced over the outline of the figure sitting in the hay inside the cell, but even with the shadows obscuring most of his features, there was _no_ mistaking this particular face, the scar that curved down the right side of his face and over his lips and those locks of raven black hair kept in a unruly mane.

" _Takafumi_ , good to see that you are still in one piece."

"As to you, old friend."

* * *

 **There ya go! First of my For Honor 100 Themes challenge. I hope you all enjoyed this, and be sure to leave a review so I know how I can do better, as well as for any feedback you have for each of those one shots (which will range in word count) :) This will be updated periodically, and warnings will be posted before each chapter that involves any sort of slash or smut.**

 **Until next time!**

 **-Thanatos**


	2. Humor

**See the end of this for some quick author's notes :)**

* * *

"There's a lot of dead Daimyo around here."

"I was stopping a civil war."

Ayu had turned around to face him, and even with the menpo covering most of her face save for her eyes, Takafumi sensed her little smirk. If he has to be completely _honest_ , Ayu was one of the few that he truly ever respected. The Emperor may have bestowed upon him his title, although _his_ title was also nothing more than the same: a name given by someone of a higher power.

His Daimyo on the other hand though, matched him in just about _every_ way; her wits just as sharp as the blade she wielded as her weapon.

"I suppose the Emperor was indeed wrong about you."Takafumi allowed his mouth to curve into a smile beneath his own menpo. All of this reminded him of the past, of when the two of them would fight side by side, back to back in battles, be it a battle with physical blades or of the wit in the middle of the imperial court. It drew them together, in a way, two rogues that are both outliers… save that Ayu wielded much more control over the words that came out of her mouth.

Before anyone else had a chance to put in a word though -

The sound of the horn in the distance was unmistakable.

 _Damnable vikings_.

"Our neighbors are quite persistent."Okuma's mask had muffled his voice, even though the hint of _annoyance_ managed to bleed through without much trouble.

Takafumi's mouth thinned into a line. All the memories of carnage he had seen while the four of them were escaping from the Imperial City would continue to haunt him until the moment of his death, he knew, and with this sound he was sure had burned itself into his memories, this _accursed_ sound which is telltale of the carnage that was sure to follow.

"That they are."He could not have kept the sour tone from his own voice.

 _Those vikings have taken far too much from us_.

But he could _not_ make a move just _yet_ , not without explicit word from his Daimyo. Takafumi's gaze turned to the azure armored Kensei with question. Ayu had not met his eyes; gazing off into the distance with consideration clear in obsidian colored eyes. He recognized the look, even if three years had passed since they last looked eye to eye. It was one of determination:

"Secure the docks, we'll meet you there."

That was all Ayu had cared to say before she had marched off with several of their soldiers, Momiji closely trailing her steps. Okuma had stayed behind, his kanabo slung over one shoulder.

"Secure the docks, like it's _that_ easy."

Again, Takafumi supposed he could now _understand_ why the Emperor had thrown him in jail with his mouth. But in this time, his mind had reasoned, it was one of the few things he could hang on to keep himself sane, to remind himself of the better times in the past when the Imperial City still stood. Three years in jail was a eternity, longer than anyone could ever hope to comprehend.

He could never have put the gratitude he had for Ayu breaking him out of the damnable place to his freedom, into words. Especially in a time like _this_ , when the Samurai are all severely outnumbered and flanked by all their enemies from every single direction: she was their hope of ever returning the world to the one they had formerly known, not just his best friend and his Daimyo.

Some may have thought that those that beared this title were ungrateful ingrates, bastard sons who knew _nothing_ of honoring their parents or the Emperor.

Beneath his mask, Takafumi smiled to himself.

This was why she was his Daimyo.

Not Ranja, not Dokuja, Kizan, or Seijuro. He was _Ayu's_ soldier and would continue to be just so for her.

* * *

 **Alright, so I have a definite schedule set up for this. It will be updated every week on Saturday, but if I manage to get a lot of chapters prewritten, I will update twice a week on Friday and Saturday.**

 **Also in reply to 50ShadesofFlail: I have two spots open as of now :) so feel free to send me a message or leave it in a review.**

 **Be sure to drop me a review for me to know how you think of the chapter, and how I can improve, please. Until next time!**

 **-Thanatos**


	3. Drama

"Medic! I need a medic!"

Takafumi bellowed, keeping an arm around the nobushi's waist as they both hobbled through the gates leading into the base camp of the Samurai: the Imperial Palace. Maybe they should have followed the Warden's suggestion and headed toward Apollyon's castle, but there was _nothing_ in Takafumi that could have allowed him to leave Momiji behind.

He tried to calm himself, reminding his mind of the trainings he had endured under the ninja clans. It did _nothing_ to slow down the thunderous beating of his heart within the confines of his chest, as though it was about to jump right _out_. Momiji had lost an _alarming_ amount of blood along the way back, an entire trail behind her that was _still_ steadily dripping from the wound: he _felt_ the nobushi literally _shaking_ in his arms, barely able to support her own weight.

Even when one of the footsoldiers rushed over, escorting the nobushi to the medical bay they had set up, Takafumi had to lean against one of the walls to calm himself down. It was the _closest_ call they had since the four of them made their escape from the besieged Imperial City. In all honesty, if he had to _truly_ vocalize a thought, it would be they are _lucky_ to even be _alive_.

"Takafumi! What in the name of _everything_ happened?!"

Ayu's eyes shone with _fury_ , so much so even the samurai himself had to take a step back before he found his voice again. The blue - clad Kensei was _not_ the one anyone sane would want to be around when she was angry: like a gust of cold wind whipping through the swamps of the Myre during the _coldest_ of winters.

"Ayu... We ran into the Knights."This would _not_ have been the first occasion where the Orochi suddenly wished he knew how to _watch_ this habit of his -

"You ran into the Knights…?"And just like _that_ , her voice turned icy. "Takafumi, you know _full_ well we cannot afford to lose either you or Momiji in a situation like this, with the war against Apollyon close to coming to full fruition."

"I know - _kuso!_ "

The bruise from where the Warden had literally struck him in the skull _throbbed_. He had not noticed it on the way back, the adrenaline pumping through his body and keeping him at full _alert_ mode the entire way. The Orochi hissed another curse beneath his breath, delicately reaching up and brushing his fingertips over the corner of his forehead. It swelled, and just even one _touch_ made it twitch with pain.

"And just what happened to you?"

Ayu's icy tone had not eased in one bit, even though Takafumi was _certain_ he heard a trace of worry in his Daimyo's voice. Her free hand had reached up, pushing his away while the Kensei took a closer look at the _massive_ bruise. "Did your years in prison finally catch up with you, Takafumi?"

Beneath his own menpo, the Orochi smirked, even with the throbbing pain in his skull: "Implying something, Ayu?"

"More of the lines that your skills are questionable, if one knight can do you in to the likes of such."

Sometimes, it's almost easy to forget they are at war.

Ayu sighed, her dark eyes turning toward the soldiers in the courtyard. "Go get it treated, the most difficult time is yet to arrive."

* * *

 **Hey there everyone! So something unexpected happened: I'm going to be at work tomorrow, so I have this early update for you. Depending on if I have more work next week, I might change it to Friday updating instead of Saturday, but that is up for deciding.**

 **Please leave me a review to tell me how I'm doing, or if I have any other way I can improve, thanks :)**

 **-Thanatos**


	4. Scary

**LIGHT SLASH WARNING AHEAD**

* * *

Davis thought he had lost the ability to feel fear long ago.

The battlefield was naught more than just _another_ event in his war dominated life. The field where all he could hear were the screams, the shouts of men in their assortment of languages and the cries of the dying. It was just all buzzing, like those of flies around a corpse, background noise as he digs his blade into the hearts, throats, and torsos of anyone with enough courage to flung themselves at him.

But here and _now_ , the Commander of the Iron Legion was completely and absolutely _terrified_ , his grip on his blade wavering despite his death grip on the hilt.

There were just _so many_ dead…

Everywhere he looked, everywhere he walked, bodies of knights and samurais were this way and there. Soldiers, conquerors, Orochi, Lawbringer… so many _dead_.

 _Oh God Almighty_ …

And he could _not_ run away, no matter how much he wanted to. He was a _Warden_ , he made a promise to protect the innocent and uphold peace and a promise that he would one day put an _end_ to Apollyon's reign of terror and tyranny after that fateful night in Valkenheim, when he stood over the body of the King Gudmudr.

Davis' thoughts weren't even mildly disrupted when one of Apollyon's solders - another _Warden_ \- came barreling toward him, sword at the ready to slice through his throat. Everything right now was pure _instinct_ , of the combat training that had kept him alive on the battlefield for so many years: sidestepping, lifting his own sword and swinging it in one powerful arc at the other Warden's torso.

Through the slits in his helmet, he watched him fall to the ground, letting out a grunt that was either of frustration or of anger.

It was cut short a second later.

 _Literally_.

Holden would have been proud of him if he was there to see this, the Warden noted with grim amusement. He had lifted his sword over his head and brought it down in a swing with all his strength, and while it could not cut through armor, the Warden felt the vibrations traveling up his arms when the blade _crushed_ the other man's throat.

But this was not why he had came here _alone_.

Davis only felt the pain shooting up his side after he had shoulder - slammed into a conqueror of the Blackstone Legion, sending him tumbling off of a broken section of the fortress' walls down to his death below. His armor had shielded him from arrows, from the blows of a sword, but it had did little to protect him from the blunt blow of the conqueror's flail: cursing under his breath, his lungs rattling with each breath he had taken from both apprehension and the weight of the situation.

" _God fucking dammit_."His breathing condensed behind his helmet. Davis leaned mostly on his sword for balance until he had found enough strength to stand again. He was fortunate the soldiers around him were all too busy trying to kill each other to take note of him just _yet_.

Shaking his head as though it would help to clear his thoughts, the Knight forced himself to _run_.

I hope he's still alive…

 _That_ was exactly what scared him the _most_. All this time, the name in his mind refused to leave even for a second, and with every passing minute, the fear grew even _stronger_ , eating away at his courage and leaving an icy feeling deep within the pit of his stomach like some sort of infernal serpent.

Where is he?!

The more he looked, the more morbid Davis' thoughts became. One thousand possibilities started racing through his mind, one after another, each one growing bloodier, _gorier_ : thoughts of spilled guts, of that lean figure in a pool of his own blood, his katana protruding from his armor that ultimately could _not_ protect him from Apollyon's great sword.

Another one flashed through his mind's eye, one of him being lifted by the black armored warlord's hand, _her_ gaze locked onto him as she slowly, _horrifically_ drew her blade across his now exposed throat, the Orochi's fingers clawing weakly at her fingers as he bled out, as his blood spilled onto her hand in a scarlet waterfall -

Davis rolled under the Lawbringer's poleaxe, shoving his own longsword through the man's lower half with _everything_ he had. Some part of him _screeched_ , bellowed this was _not_ what his Warden's oaths had trained him to be: he was supposed to face them on honorably, in battle or in a duel.

But he could care _less_ right now.

"Takafumi!"

He yelled as loud as he could manage in the language of the Chosen, drawing the attention of both allies and enemies alike. The Warden was vaguely aware of the others staring at him, although all he cared was barreling through anyone and _everyone_ in his way: "Takafumi!"

There were _so many_ dead Orochi around -

"Congratulations, Orochi, you are the _first_ to make it here."

 _There_.

Davis ignored the stabbing pain in his side; dashing forward with a speed he had _not_ known he possessed. His chest _burned_ , his side stabbed with pain, all of which he ignored without a second of consideration.

"And you, _Warden_?"Apollyon's gaze focused on him. Her eyes _burned_ even without the helmet concealing her face. "I had not figured that you would join forces with the Chosen against me."

"Surrender, face justice, demon!"

Takafumi had not spared him even a single sideways look, although Davis himself did. His gaze ran over the masked, helmeted face of the man that was his entire _world_. There was nothing more than steel coldness in his obsidian dark eyes, dark determination and something that made the Warden's heart wrench within his chest. He recognized it just far too well.

It was of _resignation_ , one that said he was _ready_ to die in this battle.

"I'll pass on that."The warlord of the Blackstone Legion had no emotion in her voice, merely as though she was just stating a _fact_ when she shifted into the combat stance Davis recognized.

But there were two of them after all. He clung onto the hope with all he had, he _needed_ that. Apollyon was _the_ Warlord of the Blackstone Legion for a very good reason, a reason he had only heard of from Holden before he left the Legion and reformed his own rebellion against her: she had _killed_ the other seven of the warlords.

The Warden held out his arm, stopping the Orochi in the middle of his path, switching into the language he had learned from Takafumi for the past several months: " _We'll take her on together_."

It was all Davis could say, it was all he _managed_ to say, before he stormed forward with his longsword, hearing the footsteps of the Orochi right behind him; closing in from the left side while he took to the right.

Apollyon was only _briefly_ surprised.

He nearly failed to react in time when the warlord blocked his longsword and spun sharply, as though she was but _dancing_ over the frozen surface of water; around just quick enough for Takafumi's katana to bounce right off of her gauntlet, metal covered fingers clamping down around the Orochi's throat.

" _NO!_ "The Warden _screamed_ , slashing his blade down her spine with enough force to literally _rip_ off one of her pouldrons. But the force was far too strong, _snapping_ it in half, with half of his blade snagged in her armor, and the broken half still gripped in his hand before the knight flung it aside. He could do _little_ without his weapon.

Apollyon had dropped the Orochi to the ground, now turning her attention to _him_ ; Takafumi coughing several times, one of his hands flying to his throat where she had nearly _strangled_ him. Davis' own gaze focused on the warlord right then and there, taking several steps backward when Apollyon _laughed_.

It was the first time he had heard her _laugh_ since he joined the Blackstone Legion.

Dry, airy, with no emotion to it save for perhaps the thinnest trace of amusement. It was those of completely _detached_ madwoman, hell - bent on getting revenge on all those around her, on spilling the blood of innocents until rivers would run red with blood: "How… _amusing_ , you surprise me, Warden. Tell me, _why_ are you so willing to die for the Emperor's Champion? Is it because of _love_ \- "

She spat the last word out as though it tasted _sour_ in her mouth.

"Or is it because you are chasing glory, just as everyone else had before you?"

Davis snarled behind his helmet. He would _not_ give her the satisfaction of knowing _what_ she had done to him, the fear that had pounded through his heart when she was _strangling_ the Orochi. But he still lacked a _weapon_ -

Apollyon's sword whistled toward his neck. That was when he made a daring move.

Instead of rolling away as anyone else would have done so, the Warden took a step _forward_ and clamped his own hand down onto her wrist with all the rest of the strength he had; sending his knee into the warlord's gut.

To his surprise, Apollyon actually _gasped_ , her grip on her sword slackening just enough for him to rip it out of her hands -

Davis did not need to look to see who it was that had saved him.

Takafumi gripped his katana with a white - knuckled grip, its blade stained with the scarlet blood of the warlord who now staggered to lean her back against the wall of the parapet: a hole ripped right through one of the chinks in her armor.

"So this is how it ends…"

Blood _poured_ from both the wound, as well as the bottom of her helmet, staining the flesh of her throat and the front of her torso, trickling onto the floor and pooling around her feet: "Good job, both of you, you've done it… You have killed me, but what - "A series of violent, hacking coughs, "do you hope to accomplish by killing me…?"

"It's over, we _will_ have peace."Takafumi had not lowered his katana. His gaze was locked on the wounded warlord, never once turning away. Davis could tell even without hearing the Orochi actually vocalizing the thought to know he was considering, _thinking_ of if he wanted to _finish the job_ by planting his weapon in a place where it very well could belong.

In Apollyon's throat.

"Peace?"Once _more_ , the warlord was _laughing_ , coughing up more blood with each shake of her torso that the Warden knew would be puncturing more of her vital organs inside. "You… came into my home… And yet you proclaim peace? My _dear_ … champion, you brought war with you, do you really claim… you bring peace?"

"Sometimes, there is a price that must be paid for peace."Davis advanced, holding the sword that had once belonged to Apollyon in his grip. " _Nothing_ in this world is without a price, as _you_ always said - " He pressed the blade against the warlord's throat.

"With you gone, there is no wound that cannot be healed into a scar, _I_ will personally make sure of it."

"All I _ever_ wanted was for each and every one of you to realize… _what_ you really are."

Her armor made an obnoxiously loud _clang_ when she _fell_ : "My… wolves…"

Davis stared at the body of the warlord for a good long minute. They had done it, they had _killed Apollyon_ , the most formidable warlord of the Blackstone Legion.

Apollyon had _fallen_.

"You are a damn _idiot_."

Takafumi placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. The Orochi's slightly shorter stature was still enough to make him having to look up in order to meet his gaze: "You shouldn't have followed me, what if she managed to kill _you_?"

"I couldn't bear the thought of losing _you_ , Taka… You are my world…"Davis used his spare hand to grasp his. Just _here_ , just _now_ , he could _permit_ his facade to drop, leaving behind the stoic face of the Commander of the Iron Legion for the one underneath.

Over the years, he had learned to mask his fear.

But it remained, and likely never would leave…

This fear of losing someone he held so dear.

* * *

 **Here we meet Warden Davis Norrington as well as the Orochi Takafumi Isamu, the two protags of my likely next fic. I might get it done, but depends, I have a crapton of things to do and being a senior high school student doesnt help.**

 **Be sure to drop me a review if you enjoyed, and until next time! :D**

 **-Thanatos**


	5. Light

Momiji loved the fresh morning light. It was always the sign of a new day, and new days would _always_ bring new surprises.

She liked surprises.

Through the slits in her mask, the nobushi peered over the wall of the Imperial Palace into the distance. It was so much nicer here than the docks, where they had kept their home before they took the palace for themselves, better than having those mosquitos buzzing around their heads all day and all night.

And in the morning, it was so much easier to see everything that was going on around them too.

Leaning on her naginata, she watched as the soldiers below trained, following the instruction of the Orochi. Takafumi had not lost his touch, if she had to say, every little bit just as deadly as he had been three years ago.

"Momiji,"the familiar voice made her turn around, facing the blue - armored Kensei.

" _Tono-sama_."She offered Ayu a respectful bow of her head. She was still her Daimyo after all, and as her soldier, she would pay her the respect she deserved. "What are your orders?"

"Momiji, how many times did I tell you to not refer to me by that, call me by my name."Ayu had her nodachi slung over one shoulder, its polished blade glimmering in the light of the sun. "Plus, you should get some rest too, you've been here since the crack of dawn."

"Ah, it's nothing, t-I mean Ayu."

Momiji smiled behind her mask, even though the Kensei wouldn't see it. "I like being here anyway, the light of morning is so pretty, relaxing too, better than a whole night of rest, really."

"Speaking of which, how is your leg doing?"

The nobushi glanced down briefly. "Better now, the medics patched it up and said I should be able to go back to the field in another day or two. Said it's healing nicely with the arrowhead extracted from the wound." She wouldn't deny it, it really _did_ hurt like nothing else in the world when Takafumi escorted her back to the Imperial Palace, leaving a trail of blood that had left her head spinning and black spots dancing in front of her vision.

"Good, although I still insist you to at least get your meal to start the day before continuing your shift here. Okuma asked me to come find you, by the way."

 _Oh_ , now _that_ is an offer that she wouldn't be able to deny for long. If there was anything among them that was more than agreed with than the fact that Takafumi _never_ watched his mouth, it was the fact that Okuma could whip up a meal more delicious than what they served in the original Imperial Palace with just a few things they have on hand. Who would have known the dangerous looking Shugoki was capable of that?

"If you insist, _tono-sama_."

She darted off with a chuckle before Ayu could say anything else, even though she could hear the Kensei sigh as she left to find the Shugoki.

This is going to be a fun new day.

* * *

 **Something lighter for everyone after the chaos of the last one, so here it is. :) Read and review, tell me how I can do better or if you have any feedbacks!**

 **-Thanatos**


	6. Dark

**WARNING: GRAPHIC SLASHY SMUT AHEAD, THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK**

* * *

It all started with one _fall_ in the darkness, against the soft bedding of leaves that left the much more slender framed samurai literally right on top of him. Davis drew in a sharp breath: it was pleasant in a way that he could _not_ describe, enough for the knight to lift up a hand and rest it against the Orochi's lower back.

"My apologies, Takafumi, I'll move right now - "

"I would rather you not."

A hand rested around his throat, simply _there_ but not squeezing, although for some reason though the gasp that would have escaped his throat died right there on the tip of his tongue. His heart was thundering within his ribcage, almost threatening to jump right _out_ of his chest when that same hand started moving _lower_ on his torso.

 _Lower_.

Until fingertips brushed over the outline of his belt and the fabric of his tabard. Davis' breathing hitched within his throat at the touch of those gloved fingertips. Even through his armor, the other man's slender frame weighed very _tangibly_ down upon him. And oh by the Almighty was he _tempted_ to return those touches with those of his own.

"Takafumi, what are you doing…?"

Again, a sense of stupidity welled in the knight. All his life he had dedicated to training, studying and learning the codes and oaths of a Warden by heart, and yet when it came to this sort of matter, he had _zero_ knowledge of. It was something that was completely new and _foreign_ but… not exactly unpleasant.

Through the darkness, he heard his lover sigh: "You really _are_ an idiot."

Davis had been about to speak, when that mouth that had only just spoken covered his, all but _devouring_ him with a passion which ignited a _flame_ inside of his lower belly.

Immediately, his arms flew around the man's waist, kissing him back with all the same passion. The knight found he just could _not_ get enough of him, of his taste and those scarred lips against his mouth; a tongue probing at his lips and he allowed it entrance. It was all one chaotic _dance_ he reciprocated, the touch of tongues leaving him with a taste of his lover.

A single hand had came up, tangling in the knight's hair and tugging on the strands, pressing their mouths together even closer than before.

Until Takafumi finally drew himself back, gasps escaping his lips from the lack of air that had sent both of their lungs burning.

" _Takafumi_ …"

The Orochi merely placed a finger over his lips, silencing him without even speaking himself. However, remaining completely _silent_ was not an easy task, once the samurai's much more slender form started slithering down his frame, gloved fingers tracing the outline of the Warden's frame through his armor: his throat, his chest and the rest of his torso

"You are a fascinating man, _Warden_."

A knee pressed against his groin, Davis shuddering at the touch and biting his tongue to stifle the sound that would have otherwise escaped him. His own treacherous body was too _starved_ , as it was the only word he knew that could compare to this sensation, so much so it was next to impossible to deny how he thrust his lower half back up against Takafumi's touch even without his own volition.

Goddamned demon, he really _did_ know the best ways of torture.

"H-how so?"Davis found himself stuttering, lower lip trembling as he fought to remain _still_ and _silent_ , to let his partner do as he pleased and also partially to remain hidden. They were still dangerously close to their respective faction campgrounds.

"For example, when I do _this_ \- "He repeated the action from before, thrusting his knee between his thighs and _grinding_ into his groin. Davis gasped again, shuddering, body arching to the likes of a drawn bowstring. "You would gasp, almost whimper with _lust_ and a vein would emerge from your neck."

Even through his own ragged breathing, Davis heard the man above him chuckle, but with a sort of _amusement_. "For a _Warden_ , you sure are perceptive to touch."

Takafumi's knee was still grinding into his most vulnerable part. Part of him almost wanted to beg the Orochi to _stop_ , that he could not take any more of his teasing. But there was also another part of him that _did not,_ craving, screaming for _more_ of it.

Daringly, his own hand had trailed lower, over the supple frame of the Samurai, over his shoulders, spine, and lower back, tracing the outline of the intricate armor Takafumi chose to wear. Absentmindedly he noted the lightweight of the armor, of its elaborate construction even though it was nothing compared to the wrought plates of metal the knights would wear.

But… it just served to highlight how much more _dangerous_ and _agile_ the Orochi could be, living up to his name as "great serpent".

Even through the armor he felt his muscles, tensing, unfurling like some predator waiting to lash out at unfortunate prey -

"You seem hesitant."

Another hard grind against his groin, very _effectively_ ripping anything the Warden had on his mind out of his throat and tossing it into the abyss inside himself. _All control be damned_ , Davis reached up; fingers tangling in Takafumi's raven black locks, pulling him down and claiming his mouth with his own, both of the Orochi's hands bracing on his chest out of surprise.

"And did no one tell you you are a evil tease?"

Quickly, _easily_ , the Warden flipped their positions, so now he loomed over the slender framed man on all fours, latching his mouth onto his now exposed neck and leaving a bite right over his pulse, guided along by pure _instinct_ : "H-haha, of course n-no - ah!"

Davis' heart was pounding in his chest by this point, hard enough he could almost believe it to be rattling against his ribcage. The scent and taste of the other's flesh was completely _intoxicating_ , and that alone made him long for _more_ of it: hand sliding down his thigh, and firmly rubbing against the other man's groin, the same way he would himself when those nights became far too lonely for his mind.

"Am I pleasing you, my dear _Champion?_ "Davis murmured against his thigh, bare cheek resting against his still clothed leg. Only through the sliver of moon's light did he note the way the samurai's head fell back against the ground, breathing ragged and uneven in clear indication of his touches were indeed affecting him the same way it did himself.

"You are…"

Takafumi still had that heavy Dawn Empire accent when he spoke in Ashfeldian, just as the Warden himself retained his own heavy accent whenever he attempted speaking in the language of the Chosen: sighing and breathing out something under his breath.

One gauntlet covered hand reached down, resting on Davis' shoulder in a silent order that had the Warden crawling up his frame; mouths finding each other again until the samurai's hand gripped his chestplate and hissed out beneath his breath. " _Get that damn thing off,_ now."

Here?

" _Are you insane…?!_ "

"Unless you are willing to spend the rest of our meeting like _this_."

This time, the knee thrusting between his legs was rougher, more _insistent_ , forcing his back into a taut arch and his mouth falling open in a choked, ragged gasp that left enough of a opening for the Orochi to quickly turn the entire table around on him; easily shoving the much larger framed knight off of him and locking onto either sides of his hips with his legs.

Even with just the light of the moon, he saw that _Goddamned smirk_ on his lips.

With trembling hands, the Warden tossed his cuirass and tabard aside, along with his gauntlet and multiple heavy belts, earning himself a approving little chuckle from the man above him: "There, is it _that_ hard?"

Beneath his armor, there was little more than a thick shirt protecting him from the frigid night air: gooseflesh rising on his skin from the coolness of the night air, unable to stop a shudder from raking over his frame when _bare_ fingers found one of the scars on his chest.

If Davis had anything on his mind, it disappeared when he realized Takafumi too had stripped down to only his pants and greaves. His pale form was marred with long, lightly colored scars from the sword fights long past; arching into his lower half that ripped a groan from the knight.

His next actions could _not_ have been his own, yanking the Chosen down for a harsh kiss while one of his own scarred hands reached up and pinched one of the rosy buds on his chest: the Orochi letting out a muffled sound into their kiss, torso arching into his touch and perhaps unintentionally, pressing his groin against the strain in his pants.

In all honest truth, that was what forced Davis to part away from their passion filled kiss. His manhood was throbbing in his pants, straining against the fabric in a almost _painful_ way -

" _Ah…"_

It was a relief when deft hands removed just enough of that troublesome clothing for his member to be freed from its cloth confines, even though Davis could not have helped the warmth that spread from his cheeks down to the nape of his neck. all his life, all his existence, he had not even bedded a _woman_ for crying out loud!

"Haven't slept with anyone, I presume?"

"W-how did you know - ?"

"From the way you suddenly went warmer than soup boiling on the stove and the way you are tensing up, that is. Oh _relax_ , my dear Warden, let me show you something now."

Whatever words that could have been on the mind of the Warden disappeared entirely when a hand wrapped around his most delicate area and _squeezed_. That sensation alone sent shivers up his spine, throwing any and all sort of thoughts he had about the codes of the Warden into the back of his mind: everything about how _wrong_ it was to sin -

Hot breathing tickled his jawline and neck, the body slithering over his enough for him to forget about everything that was going on, forget about the war, forget about just _everything_ , only that he was _here_ and nothing mattered aside from _now_.

" _I want you_ …"

Murmured, quiet words, no more teasing, no more just amusement aside from just pure _want_.

Blue and green eyes met the dark depths of obsidian. A genuine smile curled along the lips of the samurai; long fingers carding through his hair before they kissed again, Davis permitting his eyes to drift shut and merely to _feel_ along the outline of his spine and shoulder blades.

Their liplock had also muffled any and all sound from _both_ of them when the knight felt a velvety warmth envelope his member: " _Mhm…!"_

If this was sin, then this was the best damn feeling he's had experienced.

Davis drew away with a sharp gasp, panting as the coil of fire in the pit of his stomach burned hotter. Whatever semblance of control he still had hung on by nothing more than just a thin sliver thread -

Takafumi's obsidian black eyes were shut, pale lips parted with panting breaths heated against the bare flesh of his chest, breathy curses he needed not to understand to know was _anything_ and everything _filthy_.

For not the first time ever, Davis hoped the night would never end.

* * *

 **God I'm rusty at writing graphic sin, I need to get better that this eh.**

 **Read and drop a review if you liked it, ya filthy sinners ;) just kidding, but review please if you enjoyed!**

 **Until next time!**

 **-Thanatos**


	7. Happiness

There are some things that even Apollyon herself could not understand.

What _is_ happiness? Everyone speaks of it, everyone craves it. It was funny how some seems to think of it as a concept that could be easily taken and held in the palm of their hand, something that could actually be _reached_ by those sheep.

But there was someone out there that said happiness is best described as being content with being in an environment that they knew and enjoy. So if that was the case, the warlord of the Blackstone Legion supposed that war was her source of "happiness", as it was on the battlefield was where she felt the most content, that she was right where she belonged.

Wading through the sea of bodies that littered the ground of the grain storehouse of the Warborn, she smiled beneath her helmet to herself and no one else. Yes, if this was the concept they so called "happiness", then perhaps it was not so bad. Honestly, Apollyon could almost imagine this was what it feels like to a wolf right after a kill; standing over the body of their prey, blood dripping from their fangs while the sky itself seemed to sing with praise.

Blood dripped from the sword in her hand, coating her armor and the skin of her neck when a berserker rushed her, screaming in their ancient tongue. This was respectable, but sadly, oh so foolish. They think they could stop her, they _think_ they had what it took to stand against her might. So sadly are they mistaken of this.

There was _no other_ before her, and no other shall come after her.

Apollyon found herself briskly stepping to the side, gripping the hilt of her greatsword in both hands in a powerful side swing. It had served her well those last few years, and truly, it had not disappointed her even now.

The blade cleaved through the Warborn's midsection as a hot knife would through ice.

The result was a literal _shower_ of scarlet red, hot coils of innard and blood pouring into the already reddened snow. The berserker in question gasped, crimson pouring from his lips, dripping down his beard and onto the crude leather chestpiece he had worn that was quite the sorry excuse for armor, as his upper half separated from his lower.

 _So sad_ …

This one was a wolf, she had sensed it as she gazed down upon the bisected body, bloodthirsty and powerful just as the land of Ashfeld would sometimes continue to remind them of its destructive past.

Yet everything made her heart soar. It made her feel as though she had wings to soar and take over the skies, to start this wheel of war so it would turn forevermore. To say it was _euphoria_ would be doing it no justice, and the coppery smell of blood, ash and decay only made it even better: for this, this was _war_ , this was what she was born for, made for, trained for all her life.

"Your orders, master?"

Holden Cross' armor was in no better state than hers, coated with crimson red while the same fluid dripped down the shaft and blade of his poleaxe. He was a loyal soldier, one of her proudest if she had to say so herself, along with the warden Norrington; a good wolf until the end, even though Apollyon would occasionally found herself questioning his loyalty, from the way he would look upon their works not with pride, but with almost a sense of _horror_.

The warlord of the Blackstone Legion did not yet reply. Instead, she walked, letting her sabatons crunch over the reddened snow of the viking village they had razed and reduced down into smoldering ruins. Light from the fires they had started lit up the sky so bright it would almost seem it was morning, even though it was most definitely not so. Whatever survivors the other knights could find were rounded up, either killed or captured, their screams and the cries of the dying still audible to her even from this distance.

 _This_ was war.

"Burn their storehouses, but do not destroy all of it."

"Why so, master? Why not destroy all of it and leave them to starve for the rest of winter?"

Apollyon spun around sharply, a hand still around the hilt of her bloodied weapon. Of course, she had almost forgotten that not all thought everything out the way _she_ would.

"What do you think would happen if we burned _all_ of it?"She asked quietly. "They will rise up, unite their forces against us, for nothing unites as well as a common enemy - "This was where she found herself smiling, even though none of her emotions bled through her words."

"But if we leave just enough for one, or maybe two clans at most, the Warborn will _rip each other apart_ to survive."

And as a result, kindle the flames of war even brighter.

Yes, _this_ was happiness.

The joys of _war_ itself.

* * *

 **As I promised, I'm going to focus on a variety of characters in this series (and each oneshot will be somehow related to the story I may start to work on after I get this challenge done), so here is one with Apollyon!**

 **Read and review, tell me how I can improve or general feed back, thanks! :)**

 **-Thanatos**


	8. Sadness

**Warning: Implied slash ahead**

* * *

He had walked away without looking back.

The Knight sunk to his knees in the swampy ground of the Myre, the full weight of _everything_ that had just happened sinking into reality and into his very _heart_. God fucking _dammit_ , why did it hurt _that_ much? Why would he care about a _samurai_ , the one that had _not_ given a _fuck_ about him to start with, for something he regretted with his entire existence?

With his longsword, Davis stood, permitting his eyes to close just for this moment while he rested his back against the tree.

"Why…?"

The question was directed to no one in particular, and he could not have been more glad of the fact he was _alone_ right now, alone and with a helmet hiding his face from view. How would _anyone_ else think, if they saw him like _this_? The glorious _Commander of the Iron Legion_ , shedding _tears_ for a Chosen that had most definitely not reciprocated everything he had felt and done for him up to that point.

" _Damn you Warden, may you find yourself in the deepest pits of Jigoku when you die, I'll make sure of it_."

What had once been the hope in his heart now turned into a blade, making his chest its sheathe and scabbard.

 _He had not bothered to learn your name, never realized that everything you've done up to that point had been to trying to express everything you felt for him_.

Mechanical steps guided him on his way back out of the Myre, tracing the path they had first taken together when Davis initially walked into here, seeking an audience with Ayu so they may put an end to the reign of the madwoman Apollyon once and for all. As he marched though, some part of his mind could not help but remark:

 _But he did not kill you, did he?_

Davis only noticed the blood on his hands from clenching his longsword too tightly when he remembered _why_ he had fallen for the samurai, cared about him so much he started hoping the feeling might be mutual one day.

Even when he was imprisoned for speaking his mind, the Orochi _still_ cared about the Imperial City and its people in the face of there being no hope at all. He still had loyalty to his now long dead Emperor, as well as to his friends and his Daimyo, defending them with everything he had and going as far as being the first one to dive into the maze of a swamp in search of the azure armored Kensei after she was captured by Apollyon.

The Warden lifted his helmet just long enough to wipe away the tears brimming at the corners of his eyes.

"Get over it already, he'd never look at you the way you did."

 _But it's easier said than done_.

* * *

 **Boy do I love me some Warden angst.**

 **I welcome all reviews, tell me how I can improve, or what you thought of this, thanks!**

 **Until next time :D**

 **-Thanatos**


	9. Balance

"Soooooo, why do you insist on using that unbalanced flail?"

Stone groaned internally, promising to himself he would ask _immediately_ for another job the very _second_ he got back to the castle now belonging to the Iron Legion. _Why_ had he volunteered to work with this particular nobushi was beyond him; every minute grinding down against his nerves more and more, and honestly? By this point he was almost hoping for _some_ enemy to show up so he could smash their skull in with his flail.

" _Personal preferences_ , girl."The conqueror grumbled, muttering several curses under his breath in Latin. "Just as why you would prefer that spear of yours."

The nobushi - her name was Momiji if he remembered correctly - only let out a laugh: "It's a naginata, just saying."

If there was one thing Stone would not admit, it was the fact that her laughter was _infectious_ , almost enough to tempt even him to smile under his helmet. Alright, _maybe_ this job was not that bad after all, even if it means walking through the frozen plains of Valkenheim to investigate the suspicious activity of bandits.

"Heh, whatever, we need to get going at least."

The conqueror rose, his flail gripped firmly in one hand. The thought of enemies to kill _never_ failed to get his blood rushing in his veins, especially ones that think they _could_ put up a struggle: oh those were always the most amusing ones, and ones he takes the most time in squishing like mere insects in his fist.

"Do you always sound so grumpy?"

"Mhm?"Stone grunted, turning around and partially expecting the nobushi to be struggling to catch up with him. He'd be honest, he was quite surprised to see the Chosen keeping pace with his steps like it was no trouble at all. "Are _you_ always that wordy?"

"If you think _I'm_ wordy, try pairing up on a mission with Takafumi, he's even worse."Momiji chuckled, twirling the polearm in her grip nonchalantly. "I really don't know how your commander puts up with him on a daily basis."

 _Now_ even Stone had to let out a rumbling laugh. That was completely and absolutely _true_. Davis must had the patience of a saint to be able to endure the Emperor's Champion being around him just about all time and every single damn day: "True enough, I suppose - "

The arrow whizzing by his head distracted the conqueror enough for him to snap right into combat mode. Some part of him was _annoyed_ , but another part of him was more than _excited_ : _finally!_ Someone to face down and get out some of that pent up energy.

"A challenge perhaps? Let's see how many we each can kill!"

To say this played right into the conqueror's mindset would be a _understatement_. Stone would admit, he had been quite wrong about this one particular nobushi: this jovial personality of hers belied a true warrior: "I _never_ back down from a challenge!"

And so that was how it all began.

One of the marauders - former members of the Blackstone Legion, based on what they wore - rushed at him, swinging his sword with a challenging cry.

One which the conqueror answered with a rumbling laugh of his own, _easily_ allowing the crude iron blade to bounce off of the shield he carried before swinging in his own weapon from the right to left, the chain snapping around the man's throat before an audible _snap_ could be heard. _This!_ This was euphoria, exhilaration!

"Not bad for a clumsy giant!"

Clumsy giant?

"I'll show you clumsy giant!"

There was a literal _crack_ when his foot connected with the poor sap's groin, the man kneeling over clenching the wounded area in a way that made Stone chuckle deep inside: spinning around with a sharp swing of his arm that had the metallic sphere at the end of his weapon connect right with the side of the marauder's skull.

Blood, bits of skull and brain matter painted the front of his tabard and his weapon arm… as well as several of the other marauders; some of them stepping back with hesitation as the conqueror regarded them through the slits in his helmet.

 _Bunch of cowards_.

"Is that all you have…?"

"They are lucky we aren't here to stir up a fight."

Momiji leaned upon her naginata as the last of the marauders fled the scene. Stone huffed: not here to stir up a fight, _right_ , after all that ruckus they had just caused, he'd be goddamn surprised if none of them decided to report their way back to whoever they still served, be it one of Apollyon's remnant soldiers or some other figure.

"Although I'll admit, that was cool of you."At that, the conqueror grinned with pride under his helmet.

"You are not so bad either, young one."

* * *

 **Read and review please! I'd love to hear what you think or if I can improve :)**

 **Until next time!**

 **-Thanatos**


	10. Anger

Mercy never felt anger before.

Nor had she ever felt any sort of remorse, even when looking down at those bodies that littered the ground at her feet, some of them which she even recognized. They were deaths that were unavoidable, for they chose to continue following in Apollyon's path of destruction.

But why had _she_ changed her course?

The Peacekeeper mulled the thought over in her mind, as she walked through the carnage left behind from the battle that came to change the very course of history of this war - torn land.

Oh yes, it was only _logical_ of her to do so.

Davis Norrington was a strange one, but one who spoke of reason, unlike many of those around her who operated purely off of emotions: namely, Holden and Stone.

" _You and I sworn an oath to fight for peace, but we've both became cogs of war!_ "

And it was _true_. Even her title reflected such. She was a Peacekeeper, the dancer of death that had kept the gears of war from turning with the edges of her blades. Perhaps she had been so before under the command of Apollyon, but at some point, she must have changed; carrying out her master's will as nothing more than just a assassin.

Hence, she went with him when he did leave the Blackstone Legion behind, just as Holden and Stone did.

Bound by loyalty, she had also went with them when the battle started, fighting alongside of the Chosen she had once been known to slay under the cover of night. No soldier who had the idea to confront her left with their lives or limbs intact, she cut them all down just the _same_ when she served under Apollyon before she left.

It was just _that_ , loyalty.

Unlike Davis - who currently stood about a hundred feet away, with Apollyon's greatsword still held in his hand - who went out of both anger and remorse, as Mercy could tell just by his words he had uttered before the battle began and shortly before he had left the Legion, she did it out of only loyalty to her new leader that she had chosen.

 _Never_ anger.

The Peacekeeper paused to look down upon the body of her former master. Apollyon had fought and died a valiant warrior, just as she had expected of her: slash marks and wounds adorned her form, bits and pieces of her armor missing and scattered around the area, while the once formidable warlord of the Blackstone Legion laid within a pool of her own blood. Given the size of the wound on her back though, it was more than likely that was what had taken her life.

"And so the predator had fallen…"

It was to no one in particular, just another observation.

As far as all was concerned now, she had only one master to follow, one that Mercy knew deep inside would serve better than the black armored warmonger.

For peace came with a price, and sometimes, the price was blood. But now the price had been paid, there is little one needed to consider more of.

* * *

 **Sorry about that lack of updates last week, senior finals were kicking my ass into oblivion, but anyway, here have some Mercy introspection.**

 **Until next time, read and review please :) tell me how I can improve or any feedbacks, I welcome them!**

 **-Thanatos**


	11. Murder

An assassin is no stranger to murder.

Sometimes, it was by their own two hands such matters happen, other times, they watch it happen before their eyes.

It was something Takafumi himself had seen happen countless times, and most of those times, they were by his hands alone. After all, he was the Imperial Assassin for a long while before his mouth ruined his own career.

So why should this one be different?

Creeping through the darkness with one hand on his katana, the Orochi honed his eyes in on the target in the distance. He did really did not like the vikings, but he disliked the marauders even _more_ : those remnants from Apollyon's forces that had staunchly remained loyal to their now dead warlord, surviving purely stealing from the others.

It was amusing though, them stealing from the _Vikings_. Even if he does not gut their leader first, he had little doubt the Warborn would let something to this kind of offense slip by unnoticed.

 _But better safe than sorry_.

Thankfully though it was easy to slip through the shadows with the darkness as his ally; dodging among the trees that were in abundant supply among Valkenheim.

"This won't last more than a few more weeks."

While his knowledge of Ashfeldian was limited, what he had learned from the Commander of the Iron Legion was enough for him to understand this much. Some part of Takafumi was almost tempted to feel even _sorry_ for those poor bastards, _almost_ -

The light of the outpost nearly blinded his eyes from the darkness he had been creeping through for the past several hours: hissing a curse beneath his breath.

Blinking the white spots out of his vision, Takafumi's mouth thinned into a line under his mask. Just from his vantage point, he could see at least twenty or thirty men: _clever bastards_.

But that had never stopped him years before -

Landing in the courtyard of the outpost, the Orochi pressed his back against one of the walls. Some of the guard patrols skittered almost uncomfortably close to his position, some of them close enough for him to reach out and touch the armor on their back with just a little effort.

 _Now where might you be, coward…_?

Dashing across the courtyard through the gaps in the patrols, the figure inside the building he had pressed his back against was blissfully unaware of his presence: curling a smile beneath the Orochi's mask. All the _easier_ on his part.

Blood spilled with the force of a torrential fountain, dousing everything - his hands, his armor, his blade - as the unfortunate fool's head rolled off to some corner of the room, mouth agape in his last dying cries. Takafumi sheathed his katana with a flick to where it belonged. Some opponents were embarrassingly easy nowadays, it was getting boring in all reality.

Whoever this bastard was, he still remembered the way his eyes flew wide when he leapt through the window. The knight had made an attempt to reach for his sword, only that it was too late when his hand even wrapped around the hilt.

From beneath the brim of his kabuto, the Orochi spared the body of the man one last look. This was _murder_ , but an assassin was no stranger to murder.

* * *

 **Gaaaaaah sorry about that everyone! Got a shitton of stuff to complete but I should be back for good for the summer :) thank you to all of you who are still sticking with me, and remember to read and review: it helps me improve and write better.**

 **PS: I'm updating on Mondays now, as it is summer.**

 **-Thanatos**


	12. Medicine

The tonic burned his throat on its way down, so much so even the Warden coughed several times before handing the roughly hewn cup back to his second in command. "Blech, who mixed this? It's even worse than the stew the Vikings serve up for morning meal."

Holden set the cup aside: "The best medicine is often the most distasteful to the tongue though, Commander."

Davis winced as he sat up. The sword wound in his shoulder hurt like all hell, although he could not say it was worse than the arrow wound that had once dug into his shoulderblade through that blasted chink in his armor he knew he should have had fixed up earlier: "Has the casualties of the battle been accounted for yet?"

There were just far too many that had died at the battle of Blackstone Castle, even though they had ultimately came out victorious in the end -

"At least a quarter of our men, maybe even more, it'd take a long time before we can build up our forces again."

The Warden - forsaking his helmet for now - hobbled over to the window. Wearied eyes scanned over the war - torn fields of Ashfeld, heaving a long breath from his nose only reminding him of the broken rib that was only recently mended; a dull throb in his side that still made his entire ribcage rattle with each breath he took.

 _Is this the price we pay for peace, what I had to pay to see that her warmongering ways ended…?_

Mismatched eyes squeezed shut. Even if he tried, there was no stopping the memories from rushing back at him at full force: that night in Svengard, when he finally realized what he had to do in order to truly achieve peace, what he was _really_ carrying out under the command of his former master -

" _You fought well."_

 _The Warden picked up the fallen blade, his gaze going from the weapon to the figure of the man kneeling before the burning mead hall that had no doubt once been a symbol of unity among his people. Davis shut the thought out of his mind though, there was still a job he had to finish here, one that he was not so certain now really_ meant _what it was supposed to be._

 _Gudmundr had not met his gaze for the longest time, until the sword he had thrown at his feet bumped into his leather boots. Only then did the Viking King look up, his burning gray eyes meeting his underneath the metal visors of his helmet. There was only silence for the moment, until his hand closed around the hilt of his sword once more and rose, breath puffing from his nose in the form of white fog in the coolness of night air._

Gauntlet covered fingers clenched around the windowsill. There may be medicine for physical pains and aches, but there were nothing that could fix the wounds that had been left behind by Apollyon's schemes.

"Time will heal all wounds, Commander, give or take a while."

"You make it sound easy."

Now it was Holden's turn to chuckle, a rare smile crossing the Lawbringer's mouth as he turned his eyes to the war - torn battlefield outside that was still littered with the bodies of the dead: not the prettiest sight, but at least most of the bodies had been removed for a mass burial, even though there were still piles of guts, like rotten red snakes, just about everywhere one's eyes could see.

"If you could initiate a relationship with a samurai, I doubt peace could be that far off."

The Warden choked on his sip of water, the burn from before returning from the force of his coughs: " _What?!_ "

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this, read and review please! :)**

 **-Thanatos**


	13. Ancient

Ayu never forgot her ancestry.

Looking back on it, some part of her wondered if any of them would ever expect this, that _she_ of all would end up taking the throne of the Empress in the end.

After all, it was _her_ very family that was exiled by the former Emperor.

The Kensei pressed her forehead against the dusty ground of the family shrine, her nodachi sitting by her side. Cobwebs had long built up in this ancient building: how long had it been since she last came here? Ten, maybe even fifteen years? Her memories were too fuzzy to recall precisely.

But what she _could_ remember, was when she swore to herself she would see the honor of her family _avenged_ , right here in front of this very same shrine.

Leaving the incense in the burner, Ayu rose, picking up her weapon in the process; slinging it over her shoulder as she always did. It was all said and done in the past now, a part of ancient history, and while history is an important part of identity, there was a reason it was in the past -

The kunai whistling past her shoulder made her spin around sharply, blade out at the ready. How could she _not_ have heard someone else following her?!

"I will never follow a warmonger like you, Ayu."

" _Dokuja_."

Ranja and Kizan went down as warriors in battle, that much she would have to give them. Ayu's eyes narrowed beneath her helmet: but with _him_ , she should have suspected he would pull a low one like this, like the coward that he was, striking when she was least prepared for him: "You showed yourself at last, coward? I'm surprised you haven't brought an entire entourage of soldiers with you to cover your backside."

"That is because against _you_ , I don't need such."

The other Kensei's eyes were locked on hers from beneath his helmet. Ayu was too certain she had seen a flash of fear in those eyes, of uncertainty that he would walk out of this battle alive… That would have to be her greatest advantage, his uncertainty -

Neither swordsman moved, eyes locked, circling each other and watching the other for any sort of movement that could possibly hint at the other's move.

Their fighting styles were two of the same, but if one of them was faster by even a second or slower by a second, it could make the grandest of differences. If she was faster, she could strike him right where it would _kill_ , piercing through his armor and into his heart.

But if _he_ knew well enough, he could possibly block the strike and parry it with one of his own. Dokuja was a coward, but he was also a swordsman, a kensei just as she was.

They were both each other's easiest targets as well as most dangerous foe.

And Dokuja knew it as well.

If she was to win this, she would have to make this _quick_ -

The other Kensei's blade sliced into her upper arm, spreading a warm through her shoulder and arm along with a _searing_ pain. Her years of training though kept her quiet, even though the pain made her wince: it had not made her focus falter however, she simply pressed the blade forward _moreso_ , deeper into the man's chest.

Wet gurgling sounds came from behind Dokuja's mask, droplets of scarlet dripping down onto his chest.

 _Forgive me_.

It was simply… wrong to spill blood on such ancient grounds.

But sometimes, some enemies left her with no other choice.

* * *

 **First things first, reply to some of the reviews :)**

 **typoking7: The relationship between Warden Davis and the Orochi Takafumi will be the side storyline of my upcoming book 1 of the For Honor Fanfiction novel series "Honor For All" called "The Gears of War". Keep an eye out for it as the story will explain it better than I can.**

 **DoneGoofed29: Yes I am still taking suggestions, although they will not guarantee be taken as they will all have to be set in my universe of "Honor For All", so feel free to PM me your suggestion and I will return to you with if I would use it or not, thank you.**

 **I'd love to hear any feedback or commentary you guys have on this, your reviews keep me going so keep them coming!**

 **Until next time, my loyal friends.**

 **-Thanatos**


	14. Justice

Godric hated those who dared to trample on the law.

But he hated those that dared to walk on the law under his watch even _more_.

Wilhelm was no help, seeing the other Lawbringer had waltzed off somewhere else in the middle of their patrol. Not like he needed his help anyway though, he's probably better off fighting this one on his own.

Gripping the shaft of his weapon with both hands, Godric allowed his footsteps to announce his presence as he approached the village: eyes narrowing behind the visor of his helmet with _contempt_ boiling through his veins.

He may have worn a helmet, but the sound of _innocents_ screaming as the raiders burned everything in their path was clear as day to him. Metal gauntleted fingers tightened around his weapon, teeth clenching as that familiar fire he had always felt when witnessing such acts rekindled inside him, burning through his veins -

And exploding into _pure_ , destructive energy when the first Warborn flung himself at him.

He was a berserker, a man brandishing twin axes with the agility of a Chosen, landing several hits on his sides and his torso… even though they left only scuff marks in his once flawless armor.

One well aimed strike into the man's gut with the buttspike of his weapon had sent him flying, his skull connecting with a nasty sounding _crunch_. Godric's mouth straightened into a line, when the Warborn merely stood back up again with a snarl twisting his mouth and flung himself at him again -

Metal screeched obnoxiously against metal, sparks flying from the sheer force used by both of the combatants.

The Lawbringer would have to admit though, it would have been cute if it was not for the fact this was one of the man that had possibly _hundreds_ of innocent blood on his hands.

Twisting his weapon around with only a _little_ more of his strength applied, Godric spun the poleaxe around in his grip; allowing the weight of the weapon to pack in most of the strength, the flat side of the blade meeting the other, lighter armored warrior's side.

The Berserker's blood left behind an entire _trail_ as he flew through the snow covered ground, and this time, Godric did not give him time to stand up again.

Some would say it was dishonorable of him to do so, but whatever has to be done to defend the law is what has to be done, right -

Before his dazed enemy could even hope to rise again, the Lawbringer held his weapon high, driving the spear of his poleaxe into the man's uncovered chest. The metal point of the weapon tore through flesh with only the bare minimal effort, sending blood pouring forth from the warborn's mouth as his deflating lungs tried to cycle through the cutting air of winter's night.

Godric yanked his weapon back, his gaze moving to meet those of the six others of the warborn's raiding group: _fools!_

One by one they came at him, and one by one they were felled -

The valkyrie's spear bounced off of his cuirass, her bronze helmet doing little to protect her when he slammed the shaft of his weapon into her head, stunning her just long enough for him to spin the weapon around in a broad circle, neatly decapitating her with _one_ swing. To say her blood painted the ground at his feet _red_ would not be an understatement.

Her companion - or so Godric assumed - let out a bellowed curse, his great axe digging into the armor of his shoulder even though it was but a momentary victory for the warborn.

Shoving the man off of him with a burst of strength, the Lawbringer buried the spear of his weapon into the raider's gut. Blood, fountains of it, poured from the wound ripped into the raider's torso, staining his gauntlet, his poleaxe, as well as the snow underneath his feet: it was miraculous, at least in Godric's eyes, how strong the human body could be.

As it took him flinging the corpse off of his weapon for it to even split open like a carcass in the moonlight, hot coils of intestines pouring out like scarlet snakes.

All those blood would be a pain in the arse to clean out later.

* * *

 **Special shoutout to ManWithAPlan for being a loyal reviewer, you rock!**

 **Here we meet Lawbringer Godric of the twins Godric and Wilhelm Kaiser, the intelligent brute: both of them will eventually show up in my For Honor novel "Honor For All" so hang with me guys.**

 **Love it? Hate it? Please feel free to leave me a review and tell me how I did or even general feedback are appreciated (blows kisses) love all of you! :)**

 **Until next time!**

 **-Thanatos**


End file.
